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The memory of his death was vivid—although his eyes were completely healed, he could still feel the burning in his eyes and the crushing pressure in his mind.

He slowly sat up, trying to process what had happened. "Why am I still alive? What happened?" he muttered, looking around in confusion.

"It must be the Attribute Panel, helping me come back to life," he suddenly remembered the system prompt he heard before he revived.

"But what is this Recovery Point? Why is it not shown on the Attribute panel?"

Questions raced through his mind: "If Recovery Points can bring me back from the dead, can they also help others? How many Recovery Points do I have right now? How can I gain more? Are they generated automatically like Life Energy and Spiritual Power?"

He sighed, feeling overwhelmed. "Ugh, damn it! If only there was a system manual to help."

He glanced at Linger, her worried expression making it clear how much she had feared for him. "Linger, I\'m okay now, see?" He waved his hand in front of her and slowly soothed her hair with his hands.

"Okay, you rest now and hide again." Linger nodded, and soon went into the pocket inside his leather jacket.

With his current strength, roaming with a Wood Spirit without hiding it was literally seeking death.

Knowing the high value of Wood Spirits, there would be many gangs eager to snatch it from his hands if they knew he had one. With Linger hidden, Ram\'s mind raced as he pieced together the events.

"The Power of Faith... that statue... it was absorbing it. And when I saw its true form, it must have sensed me. But why didn\'t anyone else see it? Is it because of my Spiritual Eye?

And what exactly is that thing?"

"Wait, yes, why did I forget," he knocked his head with his hand and got to his feet, running away from the area.

While running, he thought of the attribute panel that appeared before he was killed. He didn\'t check it before, but the information should still be saved by the system.

Just as he thought of finding the information, an attribute panel with details he saw before appeared again.

[ Name: ??, Age: ??]

[ Race: Mechanical Life]

[ Profession: Mechanical Apostle]

[ Level: Tier -6 (damaged- 84%)]

[ Physique: ?????]

[ Spirit: ?????]

[ Description: A broken Mechanical Life, one of Mechanical God -\'@#$^&#@@%^#!\'s most advanced and powerful creations, from an advanced technological world.]

After reaching a few miles away from the statue, he stopped to catch his breath and looked at the attribute panel.

He didn\'t know where he was now, but he felt safe as long as he was not near the statue and vowed not to go near it unless he had enough strength to defeat it.

Although there wasn\'t much information, he was still shocked at the details on the panel.

"Mechanical Apostle? Mechanical God? Fuck it," he cursed, expecting something like this but still unable to fully process it.

Ram stared at the panel, a knot of unease tightening in his gut. The Dwan Federation, everyone knew, was created by gods, but he didn\'t understand who this Mechanical God was.

He was familiar with the pantheon – all seven gods of the Federation. He even held a fondness, a flicker of faith, for the two most powerful of them: the Goddess of Life (Life Giver) and the God of Fate (Fate Weaver).

Hundreds of years ago, after the formation of the Dwan Federation, the federation issued rules banning the worship of other gods.

Those who followed other gods were considered heretics and would be hunted by the federation.

"But of all the gods of the Federation, I\'ve never heard of a god named Mechanical God," Ram thought.

"Looking at the description on the panel, this Mechanical God must be an outer god trying to extend his influence on Blue Star."

He didn\'t know what had happened between these gods, but he understood one thing: the one behind the Shadow Society should be the Mechanical God, supporting them secretly.

If the Dwan Federation knew about this, there would be a war between the two.

He had heard stories of how fanatic and powerful the believers of the federation gods were.

And there shouldn\'t be many who knew this secret, but thinking about it again, "the high levels of the federation should already know of this.

But nothing had happened. Was it that they couldn\'t do anything about it, or was it because they were not on Blue Star, so they didn\'t bother to do anything?"

Whatever the reason, Ram figured the Mechanical Apostle might think he was already dead. "Or else I would have already died again," he thought.

"It\'s better not to go over there and get killed again. I still don\'t know how many Recovery Points I possess or if the system can still resurrect me again if I die."

He couldn\'t believe he had died once and come back to life again. There seemed to be many other functions of the system he still didn\'t know about.

He then looked around, realizing he had run much farther than he intended. Unlike the busy streets he was used to, the area here was eerily empty, silent, and gloomy.

The buildings were old and dilapidated, their windows broken and boarded up.

Trash littered the sidewalks, and the only sounds were the distant hum of machinery and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

A shiver ran down his spine as he took in the desolate surroundings. "Where am I?" he whispered to himself.

The emptiness of the streets made him feel exposed, as if eyes were watching him from the shadows.

He knew he couldn\'t stay here for long.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint echo of his footsteps as he cautiously walked forward.

His senses were on high alert, every shadow and flicker of movement catching his eye.

The desolation of the area was a stark contrast to the chaotic streets before.

Then, at the corner of a street, he saw a woman in a black hood, staring at him. When he looked at her, she turned around and walked away.

However, when he saw the woman, he recognized her. She was the one who had saved them yesterday from being hit by the truck.

"Wait!" he shouted, trying to stop her, and ran after her. His footsteps echoed loudly as he sprinted down the deserted street.

The woman moved swiftly, almost gliding, her black hood obscuring her face.

She turned another corner, and for a moment, he thought he had lost her. But he pressed on, determined to catch up.

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